


Goodnight, Travel Well

by thetealord



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Anxiety, Canonical Character Death, Dancing, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 21:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4278882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetealord/pseuds/thetealord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and James spend a bittersweet morning together before James leaves for his mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodnight, Travel Well

When James woke up, he rolled over towards Harry's side of the bed to find the other man already gone, his spot just vaguely warm. He hummed to himself, pressed his face into the older man's pillow and stretched out across the sheets. He could hear footsteps and the sound of clattering dishes and something sizzling downstairs, undoubtedly Harry making breakfast for the two of them. 

James smiled against the pillow, closed his eyes for a moment more, his heart tight in his chest at the thought of just how perfect his life was. Really, how could he ever want anything more than this? But when the moment passed and he knew it was time to get moving, he pushed himself out of bed, groaning and stretching. He had a long day ahead of him but damn it all he was going to at least enjoy his morning with Harry before he called up Merlin and asked him to prepare the plane.

Reaching for his dressing gown, the red one that matched Harry's (the one with the gold K on the pocket, a constant reminder of his service, his dedication), he threw it on over his shoulders and tied it at the waist, yawning as he made his way slowly and sleepily down the stairs. He'd never really been much of a morning person, though Harry could be worse when given the chance to sleep in. Normally, though, the older man was up at dawn, fixing his hair and suit until he looked completely flawless, and James found it incredibly endearing.

This morning, though, Harry was in his dressing gown, too, his hair still tousled slightly from sleep, standing at the stove scrambling eggs and frying bacon.  

"Good morning, darling," Harry said to him as James wrapped his arms around the other man's waist, rested his chin against his shoulder, and stared down at their breakfast. "Feeling good?"

"As good as I ever do," James replied. "Ready to go out and take on the world, I suppose." He grinned and Harry turned his head and they kissed, brief but warm, and then James pulled away to put the kettle on for tea.

"Well, I suppose you'd better, you've got a long flight ahead of you. I thought I'd get up and make you a nice, hearty breakfast."

"And it's _very_ appreciated," James said as he wrapped an arm around the older man's waist again and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, love."

Harry smiled, focused on the eggs and bacon, ensuring nothing burned. He parted his lips as if to say something but swallowed that thought down and instead, turned off the burners and motioned for James to get their plates, scooping over an equal amount of bacon and eggs onto each. James finished making their tea, and they sat together at their tiny kitchen table across from each other, ankles bumping affectionately beneath the table as they ate, Harry glancing over the morning news.

"I was thinking we might shower together," Harry said as he looked up from his tablet and prodded at his eggs. "I thought it would be nice, before you go." James nodded at that. But when he looked up at him, Harry was frowning. He looked... troubled, and he quickly looked down at the news again, scrolling through the tabloids as he ate.

"Harry," James said, then sighed. Harry resolutely continued to stare at the news but James reached out for the older man's hand and took it in his. "You know it's just a little surveillance, Harry. I'll be fine." He rubbed the backs of the older man's knuckles.

Harry nodded, and said, "Oh, I know. Of course you will. You're Lancelot, after all. I just have a... bad feeling about this one, is all."

"You just don't know the details of it, and that worries you, but I promise you it's nothing all that dangerous."

"What we do is always dangerous," Harry reminded him, and James decided it wasn't worth arguing, let go of his hand, and they finished their breakfast in silence.

When Harry got up to clear their places, James stood and stopped him, grabbing his arm and moving in close. "What are you doing," Harry mumbled to him, just a slight smile on his face as James placed Harry's hand at his waist and rested his own on the other man's shoulder, taking his other hand in a nice firm grip. 

"Come on," James coaxed, leading him a little ways away from the table. "You're unhappy, so I'm cheering you up." He swayed a little and started to hum a low, slow tune. "Dance with me, and don't try to pretend you can't when you're the one who taught me."

"Oh, stop that," Harry muttered, smiling, but he reluctantly started following James and then took the lead, sweeping him about in long strides around the kitchen floor, joining in with him and humming, their foreheads pressed together.

James closed his eyes for just a moment, took it all in and tried to memorize this morning perfectly, so that when he was alone doing recon in Argentina, he could look back on this and smile, and remember what it was he had to come home to.

"How are you so bloody perfect," Harry muttered to him, leaning in to kiss him gently on the lips as they slowed. Eventually, he stopped, and when their eyes met, James could see all the love in the world reflected in Harry's. "You're right," Harry said after a moment, "You'll be fine." They kissed again, briefly, and then Harry reached around and gave him a friendly clap on the ass and grinned at James's tiny, indignant snort.

"Rude old man," James muttered, leaning into him, pressing their foreheads together again and squeezing his hand. "Let's go shower so that I can get on with it and come back to you as soon as possible, yes?"

"Yes," Harry said, kissing his temple. "And you'd better come back to me in one piece, understand? If you don't, I'll never forgive you."

James laughed aloud at that.

And the irony of it struck Harry later on. If only he'd known, then.

If only he'd known that James was never coming back.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I can honestly say this was not easy to write. Why do I do this to myself. This ship is slowly killing me but I love it so much it's the good kind of killing. See: Goodnight, Travel Well by The Killers and imagine this is what they were dancing to for additional pain.


End file.
